


Caught

by KingJulienne



Series: Dorky Boyfriends [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: College AU, Humor, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Jean being a brat, M/M, Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein-centric, Marco being a butt, Masturbation, Masturbation Interruptus, Roommates, Sexual Content, whatever that means
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2687501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingJulienne/pseuds/KingJulienne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco and Jean have to get their homework done, but the latter is taking a bit too long to change his clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been quite some time since they arrived home from classes, and if Marco started their assignments without him, Jean would throw a fit, as usual.

Thus, after a half hour of waiting on Jean to change into “homework clothes”, as he had put it, Marco decided he should go collect him before it got late.

Assuming that Jean was simply changing his clothes, or had possibly fallen asleep in the middle of the act—he had been nearly passing out during lectures again—Marco took the handle of his roommate’s door and opened it.

As he did so, he called, “Jean, are you ready to work on the…”

He halted in the doorway, his hold on the knob tightening as he locked gazes with Jean. The longer he stared, the longer Jean’s face aged with horror and reddened in his embarrassment.

“Homework…?” He breathed, bright cherry chasing up his neck to his face as Jean began to sweat profusely.

That  _was_ Jean’s fly and button undone, that  _was_ Jean’s hand in his lap, and that, that  _was_ Jean’s penis.

His face became a dark raspberry as Marco fumbled for words. What was the right thing to say, to do? Apologize? Tell him to continue? Look away?  _Tell him to continue?_

Jean suddenly bolted into action, tucking his parts away with one hand. “Dammit, Marco,” he shouted, “I’m going to  _kill_  you, I swear—don’t you  _knock?”_

Marco’s mouth flapped open and shut as he recalled he’d been told about this, eyes still locked with the disheveled state of Jean’s pants, pinpointing the penis where it had been shoved away. It must’ve been uncomfortable, considering how hard it seemed.

Jean suddenly gasped, and he started shrieking, “Stop  _drooling,_ dammit!” he flailed his arm wildly at the door. “Shut the door, Marco,  _shut the fucking door!”_

Marco snapped back into reality, shoulders snapping to his neck.  “Ah! Oh! Sorry, sorry!” Marco shouted, pulling the door shut.

He turned away from the door, setting his back against it. Listening to Jean’s muffled swears and prayers to God—“Dammit, Jesus fucking Christ, every damn time!”—Marco wiped the saliva running down his face with his sleeve, realizing he had yes, been drooling.

And now, it was coming back to him, how Marco’d been warned not to open the door without knocking first, the reason being this had happened before…with Jean’s mother.

By now, Marco should be well aware that “homework clothes” truly meant “I’m going to jack off; don’t bother me.”

In truth, it also was not the first time Marco had walked in on Jean relieving himself, the other times…leading to more intimate activities, at Jean’s displeasure.

Still blushing, Marco sighed, wishing his heartbeat to not thump so loudly against his ribcage. He shoved off the door, sighing again, staring down at the front of his pants.

Their homework would have to wait, it seemed; Jean had to calm down, and Marco had to take care of the problem grown between his thighs.

Of course, that didn’t mean he and Jean couldn’t synergize.

A smile curling Marco’s lips, he reached behind him and took the knob in his hand. “Oh Jean,” he sang upon reentry.

“Oh no,” Jean said, warningly, “I told you to leave, Marco—to  _leave,_ dammit!”

Marco sashayed over to the bed, to a blushing Jean who scooted further against the pillows and headboard in an attempt to distance himself.

Jean continued to protest. “Go  _away,_ Marco! Jesus, I want to  _walk normally_ for once, God dammit! Marco are you listening to me? Marco!  _Marco!”_

 They’d never get their homework done.


	2. Caught, Version 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Marco just needs to relieve some tension and have some alone time. He can't really do that with an impatient Jean trying to get his homework done.

There were things to do and even more things to be done, but Jean didn’t dare start the majority of them without Marco, lest he want him to throw a fit. Thus Jean kept himself from succumbing to unconsciousness-by-boredom via leaning against the coffee table in their apartment, his elbow and hand holding his face from slamming against the surface of the wood, his knee tapping his impatience into the carpet; it constantly reminded Jean that he was waiting on Marco.

One glance at the clock on the wall—thirty minutes. Changing out of his day clothes, Jean’s right ass cheek—had Jean on his feet and down the hall in search of Marco.

He stopped before their bedroom door banging his fist against the wood. “Marco, if I have to study Marx on my own I’m going to beat the freckles off your ass with the _Communist Manifesto!_ ”

Marco’s swear barely heard, Jean furrowed his brow in confusion. “J-Just a minute!” Marco called through the door.

“Hah? The fuck are you doing in there?” Jean asked, taking the door knob in his hand. There could only be a handful of reasons why Marco was a stuttering mess behind a closed door. Throwing the door open, not waiting another goddamned minute, Jean accused his roommate, “Don’t tell me you’re—”

He staggered in the doorway, staring at Marco on his bed, cheeks burst with red and his eyes wide in panic. That was one of Jean’s shirts pressed up against Marco’s face. And that…that was Marco’s penis. Red and glistening, slick from sweat and warm from the blood rushed to it.

“Jacking…” Jean found some warmth in his own face. Was that his shirt? “Off?”

Of all the times Jean had to be impatient, it was this one. Is this what Marco meant about changing out of his day clothes? He’d need to change afterward, that was for certain. Jean’d need to wear that shirt more often.

Dropping the shirt, Marco snatched a pillow and slammed it over his lap, the red in his cheeks from his pleasure now conquering his face in his embarrassment. “Shit,” he cursed, “the _one_ goddamned time!”

Jean figured out several ways to fix this issue and they all fruited the same results: it was to either leave and never speak of it again, come in and join him, go get that shirt, tell him to continue, argue with him about all the times he’d wandered in on Jean doing the exact same thing, wear that shirt, _tell him to continue_. 

Jean opened his mouth to pick an option but a pillow to the face—he hoped it wasn’t the one Marco had in his lap—silenced him on the matter.

“Don’t just stand there, Jean!” Marco shouted, “ _Leave, goddammit!”_

Leave?

Oh no.

Jean wasn’t getting rushed out of the door that easily, not after all those times Marco walked in on him, having private time and made it “roommate bonding” time. Besides, the heat in the room spread throughout Jean’s body and into his crotch and now _his_ day clothes were bothering him unbearably, too.

Someone had to take responsibility.

“Don’t just rush me out the fucking door, Marco Leanne Bodt,” Jean snapped, ignoring the way Marco mouthed ‘Leanne’, questioning where such a middle name came from, “Like you’re not gonna finish what you started!”

Marco’s confusion only grew as Jean stormed into the room, the mattress dipping as he climbed atop it. Marco shuffled back against where the headboard conjoined to the corner, trying to escape Jean, protests flying off his lips in incoherent sputters. Jean snatched Marco’s hand and thrust it into his own crotch, forcing him to feel how hard he was and ignoring how much harder that made him.

Jean ignored the burning in his face and ears. “I’m hard now, too, you asshole! Learn to take fucking _responsibility,_ dammit!”

Jean gave Marco a moment. “Oh,” Marco said, glancing at where his hand pressed against Jean’s crotch. “Uh, I, um.” Marco glanced about, exasperated trying to figure this out on his own, “I’m sorry? Jean?” He gave him a confused look with a mixture of other things in it; but who the fuck let that flicker of hope into his eyes? “Are you giving me permission?”

Jean fumbled around with that question for a moment. “What? Permission?” Jean asked. “How’d you get ‘permission’ out of telling you to take responsibility for this, you do—!”

Marco cut him off with a kiss. Jean felt the smile in it and smacked him. It only assisted in growing Marco’s smile in the matter. Jean also felt Marco’s hand grope at him in the most glorious and frustrating of fashions, Marco’s other hand pushing Jean back against the bed. Jean panicked a bit, not because he didn’t want it, but because he had to walk tomorrow, he had places to go. People to see. Asses to kick.

“Marco—” Jean shivered as Marco’s tongue lapped against his mouth, and he gripped Marco’s shirt in both hands. “Nngh, I want to _walk_ tomorrow, dammit, you understand? You—” Marco’s tongue stuffed its way into Jean’s mouth, swirling about with Jean’s tongue and thus tongue tying him. He lost his ability to formulate words, not to mention the way Marco ground his crotch against Jean had stars in Jean’s eyes and his hips rocking up to meet him.

 

“Shit,” He moaned, Marco drawing back to pepper his neck with kisses. Jean tapped his fists against Marco’s chest, willing him to listen, even as the kisses continued. “Marco, I need to _walk,_ I have to _walk_ tomorrow,dammit. If I can’t walk, I’m—”

“Kicking my ass,” Marco said against his neck. He rose up and chuckled at Jean, his light voice causing Jean’s face to burn even more. “I know Jean, I know.”

“Damn straight,” Jean muttered and allowed himself a little whimper when Marco kissed him again.

They forgot about their homework.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon that when Jean gets upset with people he assigns them middle names, regardless if they have them or not, because it throws them off and gives him more time to yell.


End file.
